


done and dusted

by englishsummerrain



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Backstreet Boys references LOL, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 03:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishsummerrain/pseuds/englishsummerrain
Summary: It’s not the weirdest opening line Ten has ever seen on Grindr, but it’s certainly the weirdest one he’s ever used.





	done and dusted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrittlePrince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrittlePrince/gifts).

> i totally basically roulette wheeled this pairing. the premise is ridiculous, but i hope it's something like what you might have liked!!!

_ I don’t know you but our showers are side by side and we sing duets sometimes _

It’s not the weirdest opening line Ten has ever seen on Grindr, but it’s certainly the weirdest one he’s ever used. He’s worried he’s shooting his shot too early, that the profile a few feet away from him isn’t the dude he’s been singing Backstreet Boys songs with for the past three months. He figures even if it isn’t, it’s surely enough to get his attention immediately. The guy’s body is hot, and Ten is trapped in the deadly combination of bored, horny and lonely.

Bornely.

His phone buzzes.

_ lol? _

He winces. Definitely the worst opening he’s ever used. He wishes he could delete it and start all over again. Maybe go with the ever useful ‘nice pics’. Wax lyrical about the details of his abs. Ask him how many hours he hits the gym, or something. Instead he goes all in.

_ backstreet’s back? _

It’s still a shot in the dark, but he figures it’s now or nothing. All in to his horny desires. All in to finding out if the guy with the deep voice next door is actually hot and down to fuck. It’d be a bit of a dream come true, really. Ten knows at this point that he has a type, and that type is musicians. Musicians who always break his heart, then probably write a song about it which either he plays on repeat when he gets lonely, or he listens to and wonders if he was really a bad enough lay that they had to write about it. 

At least Dongyoung had left him with something nice, something sentimental about all the good times they’ve had. It was also the only time someone had used the word ‘make love’ to describe the way Ten fucked, and he’d thought it rather poetic. Making love, like he was the star of some romance film and not just broke, horny and gay. 

Ten thumbs back through his messages with a sigh. Together they make up a long list of past lovers and fleeting warm bodies in his bed, of being left on read and missed opportunities. A long list of failures to ever do anything with his relationships but run them into the ground. He hovers his finger over Kun’s name for a few seconds, over the smiling gym selfie set as his profile photo. He was super cute, and super sweet. Ten had thoroughly enjoyed the date they’d gone on. And because he was a buffoon, he hadn’t texted Kun back. He’s halfway to typing a greeting before Mr. Abs replies.

_ go to the bathroom lol _

In any other context Ten would tell him to fuck off, wary of being roped into some dude’s pee fetish again. In this context, he springs to his feet and practically throws himself through the bathroom door. There’s a few seconds of silence where he realises he forgot to turn the light on, and is standing in the middle of the cold tiles in the dim light filtering through from the kitchen, but then he hears singing.

Of course the idiot starts from the pre-chorus, asks Ten if he’s the only one. He’s laughing as he sings back at him, rolling his body in the imitation of the dance routine he’d learned when he was fifteen.

_ you’re fucking kidding me??? _

“I’m not!” Ten yells.

“You’re hot! What the fuck?”

“Of course I’m hot, what do you mean?”

He feels ridiculous standing in his bathroom, yelling at this guy through the wall.

“I dunno man, I didn’t expect you to be hot, okay.”

Ten can’t help but laugh. He really can’t. He sits down on top of the toilet, tears in his eyes, and starts to giggle. The entire scenario is so hairbrained it feels like it can’t be anything more than a strange fever dream. 

He clutches his face in his hands, drags them down and his cheeks and shakes with laughter, like a teacup dog in an earthquake. It devolves into hysterics, and soon he’s in the middle of a meltdown, tears streaming from his eyes. He’s delirious, he’s sure, from lack of cock.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine!” Ten says. His voice is high and strained and he’s choking, actually choking, his cheeks aching like he’s been chewing on gum for far too long.

“You don’t sound fine, bro.”

“I’m just saying, isn’t this kind of stupid?”

“I guess. But you don’t need to like.. die over it. You know. Hey, you wanna come over? I have beer?”

Ten chokes, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes with the stupid floral scented toilet paper Kun had bought him as a housewarming gift. “Give me a minute.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ten’s sure that this guy — Yukhei, his profile helpfully tells him — know exactly what that ‘minute’ was for, considering that the wall between their bathrooms is evidently paper thin. Ten arrives freshly showered, with a bottle of modest champagne in his hands (because he doesn’t trust the beer quality of a guy who takes faceless ab selfies). Yukhei beams at him when he opens the door, greets his with his hands wide and immediately tries to engulf him in a hug.

It’s a lot like being smothered by an oversized Golden Retriever, except the Golden Retriever is hot and like. So fucking tall. Holy shit, Yukhei is tall. Ten basically smashes his face into his shoulder when Yukhei sweeps him up, suffocating in the scratchy fabric of his shirt. Yukhei shakes him as he lets go of him and grins, white teeth on display, huge eyes filled with sparkles.

Disney prince ass motherfucker.

Ten wishes he had more to think about Yukhei that wasn’t just how damn good looking he was.

“I really wish I’d known you were pretty before I let you hear me sing Single Ladies,” Ten says.

“Why? You’re really good!” Yukhei laughs. “Come on, you want a beer?”

Ten holds up the bottle in his hand. It feels a little like he’s making an offering to a god of dick and wine. “Champagne?”

“Oh, you’re fancy,” Yukhei says. Ten cringes internally. Of course Yukhei thinks champagne is fancy.

“It’s from my housewarming,” Ten says. “My friend bought it for me.”

Yukhei takes the bottle from him. His fingers brush Ten’s, and Ten feels his cheeks heat up at the jolt the skin contact sends up his spine.

It’s been way, way too fucking long.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Three glasses of champagne. He’s not drunk. Not even tipsy, he thinks, though he’s unsure of that. He can’t stop laughing, but he can’t tell if it’s alcohol related or that Yukhei is just genuinely fucking funny. He has a way of speaking that makes him seem huge, hands in the air, eyes like saucers, mouth so wide it looks like it could fit a hundred jokes inside.

“..and he comes to me and just asks me questions like — boom!” He claps his hands together and lets out a ‘hah!’. “He asks he if I’m the stripper man!”

“And then what did you do?” Ten asks. They’re sitting on the couch together, Ten’s legs tucked under his body, Yukhei leaning into him, the side of his body blazing against Ten’s arm. Yukhei grins at him and finishes his off his glass with little grace.

“I told him I could be if he wanted to.”

“And that’s how you became a stripper?”

“For a night,” Yukhei says, laughing. “They loved me! It was so fun! I wanted to make it a job for a while actually, even took pole dancing lessons! I was the only dude in the class.”

“You’re actually joking,” Ten says. He laughs and slaps Yukhei’s hand and Yukhei gives him a look of deadly seriousness, like Ten has somehow doubted his whole existence.

“No! Why would I?”

“That’s so funny! I just can’t imagine you on a pole.”

“I’m really strong!” Yukhei says. “It’s all you know—” he flexes his biceps briefly and Ten almost passes out at the sight. “—upper body strength. I already worked out, so it wasn’t that bad!”

“I know you work out,” Ten says, “your profile is all gym selfies.”

“Oh yeah! Do you like them? Yangyang says they’re a bit trashy but I think he doesn’t really have any taste anyway.”

Ten thinks he could flat out tell Yukhei that his selfies are awful and still get into his pants tonight, so he does exactly that. “They’re a bit basic. You’re cute though. Why don’t you use your face?”

“I’m cute?” Yukhei says. He looks incredulous, eyebrows raised so high they almost reach his hairline. “Really?”

“You’re like a puppy,” Ten says. He reaches out and plays with Yukhei’s fingers where they hang off the back of the couch. “You’re super cute.”

“Oh.”

It takes Ten a second to realise Yukhei is turning red, cheeks flushing, words stuck in his throat.

“Are you embarrassed?” He asks. It’s really quite endearing, seeing Yukhei break down like this, fluster at the simplest comment.

“No!” Yukhei almost shouts the word, hands twitching towards his face. “Maybe,” he adds, a little quieter. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Ten says. He reaches up to take Yukhei’s wrist away from his face, and it’s impossible to ignore the size difference between their hands. Ten’s fingers barely cover half his wrists, and his palms are as wide as his face. Heat coils in his stomach and Ten swallows, lifts his gaze to meet Yukhei’s, smile coy.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Yukhei hits the mattress with a thud, eyes sparkling like star showers, cock hard and heavy where it bounces against his stomach, smearing precum against the definition of his abs. Two minutes ago Yukhei had been jerking him off, before Ten had shoved his shoulders and begged them to go to bed. Now, Yukhei stares at him, propped up on his elbows, the long expanse of his body ready to be taken. Ten's vision is hazy, clouded by lust, and god, he wants him so fucking badly.

He wastes no time, pulls off his shirt and throws it on the floor, almost trips over his pants. He clambers onto the bed and throws himself on top of Yukhei, kisses him open mouthed and wet, lips spit slick and simmering with the heat. Yukhei pushes up against him and Ten grinds back down into in return, gasps into the kiss when Yukhei’s hands come up to splay themselves across his back. He could throw him across the room if he wanted, pick Ten up and pin him against the wall, fuck into him with reckless abandon, but Ten knows, he fucking  _ knows _ that’s something that’s not in Yukhei. 

These puppy boys — they’re all the same.

Yukhei crumples beneath him the second Ten’s mouth moves to his jaw. He maps out the shape of his neck dances his fingers across his chest, presses into the sinew of his muscles and feels the drumbeat of his heart. He presses a kiss to his collarbone, then a bite. Fingers on his nipple now, rolling the piercing between his thumb and forefinger, and Yukhei is so easy, so willing to give, folds beneath him when Ten mouths at his skin and runs his tongue around the dark skin of his nipple. He scoops up his cock in his hand and strokes, and Yukhei’s eyes screw shut. So easy, so good. He’s hot and heavy in his hand, and this is what Ten loves. This is what Ten needed. 

God, Ten fucking  _ loves _ boys. He pumps Yukhei’s cock and lets his mouth wander lower, crawls  _ down _ his body like a climber in descent, licks a wet stripe across his abs.

“What are you doing?” Yukhei croaks, and Ten looks up at him from under his lashes, smiles as sweet as he possibly can.

“Whatever I want, baby.”

“Oh,” Yukhei says, and it’s a whimper more than a word, anticipation thrumming through his body.

“Wondering how much of your cock I can fit in my mouth,” Ten says, and Yukhei’s hips push up, fucking into his closed fist. “What do you think?”

“I wanna see,” Yukhei says.

Ten pouts. “You’re no fun.”

Yukhei laughs, but it comes strained, like the muscles in his throat can’t quite relax. Ten tests him with a lick to the side of his cock and Yukhei’s hand, resting in his hair, closes into a fist. “Holy fuck,” he says, and Ten laughs, presses the pad of his tongue to the base and drags it up his length. Yukhei smells good, heady and musky, a little sweaty, the kind of scent Ten can only describe as ‘boy-ish’, the kind he wants to bury himself in. 

The moan Yukhei makes when Ten takes him into his mouth is fucking  _ filthy _ , wanton and delicious, absolutely unhindered in the way it escapes from his lips. Ten laughs around him, and Yukhei’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, his nails digging into his skin as Ten bobs his head, dives down and holds himself there.

Ten focuses on breathing through his nose, on keeping Yukhei’s eye contact at all times as he swirls his tongue around the length of Yukhei’s cock. He tries to take more and more of him in and Yukhei’s hips jerk up in response. Ten gags, saliva pooling in the corners of his mouth and he presses his free hand flat against Yukhei’s hip and pushes him back down, widens his eyes to try and tell him to  _ stay still _ . He doesn’t need Yukhei trying to fuck his mouth right now, and he certainly doesn’t think it’ll be particularly sexy if he broke his neck trying to suck Yukhei’s cock. 

He pulls off, spit dripping down his chin, catches it with his hand and strokes along the length of Yukhei.

“My mouth is small and you have a big dick,” Ten says, blinking the tears out of the corners of his eyes. His jaw is sore, but his mother didn’t raise a quitter, and he gives Yukhei a  _ look _ , one that’s returned sheepishly by Yukhei patting his head with a giant hand.

“Sorry,” Yukhei says. Ten smiles at him, hoping it’s not marred by the mess of bodily fluid covering his face.

“Thank you. Now stay put, darling.”

He takes Yukhei back into his mouth with little ado, hollows his cheeks and sucks at him, wraps his hand around the base of his cock and strokes. Yukhei quivers beneath his palm, gasps, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t fuck himself into Ten’s mouth, just holds still with all his muscles strained.

Ten pulls up, bobs his head, evening his breathing. It’s not the first time he’s had someone this big in his mouth, but it is the first time in a long time and he knows it’s a rare talent, finds he wants to leave a lasting impression on Yukhei. 

He takes another breath, through his nose, twists his hand and sinks down again, ignores the ache in his jaw the best he can. Saliva drips from the edges of his lips where Yukhei’s cock stretches them wide, but Ten ignores it, just goes and goes until he feels the head bump the back of his throat, until Yukhei groans, lets out a strained  _ ‘fuck _ ’ and grasps his (giant) hand in Ten’s hair.

“Bro…” Yukhei starts, and Ten slams his hand onto his stomach, does not want to hear anyone ever call him  _ bro _ when their dick is hitting the back of his throat. They’re not in a fucking frat, this is a fucking professional hookup, and Ten makes it a point in his mind to make sure Yukhei  _ can’t  _ talk anymore. He’s fucking lucky he’s pretty enough that Ten will put up with this. 

Ten pulls off him, again, satisfied knowing know that he can fit most of Yukhei into his mouth. He scoops up the saliva mixed with precum running across the bright red head of Yukhei’s dick, and smears it across his stomach, watching the play of Yukhei’s muscles as they flutter beneath his touch. 

“Yukhei,” Ten says, looking up at him now, smile like the devil, his body red and flushed. He’s so fucking hard it’s starting to hurt, but he can ignore it, can ignore when he knows the real prize is Yukhei and how pretty he’s about to look under Ten’s influence. Yukhei nods. “You wanna fuck my throat or my ass?”

The back of Yukhei’s head hits the headboard and he moans, full, low, like thunder in his ribcage. It sends a shiver over Ten’s skin, and he strokes Yukhei, twists his wrist and flicks his thumb over the head of his cock, squeezes him to try to bring his focus back to the room. He’s so  _ easy _ it surprises Ten.

“Yukhei?” Ten repeats, “Cmon,” and when he doesn’t answer — “you know I fingered myself in the shower, right? You know I’ve done it before. I’ve done it while you were there.” 

Maybe it’s revealing too much, but Ten is dizzy with lust, dizzy with want — the want to make Yukhei to break so badly. The rush of power is giddy, the way his words make Yukhei’s face contort, the way the notion of Ten just  _ asking _ where he wants his cock is enough to make Yukhei lose his mind. If he’d known it was this simple maybe he’d have started here. “You’ve been on the other side so many times and you never knew,” Ten says.

Yukhei takes in a laboured breath and nods jerkily, “Did you touch yourself too?”

Ten bites back a snarky remark, just nods. “Of course I did.”

“All this time, huh,” Yukhei says, and Ten laughs. 

“All this time. Now answer me.”

Yukhei moans, soft. “I want,” he starts, and he’s looking at Ten, shoulder’s shaking, mouth opening and shutting wordlessly with his laboured breaths. “Fuck, dude. Whatever you want.”

Ten doesn’t pause. He sinks his mouth back down onto Yukhei’s cock, takes as much as he can, takes him in until he’s filling his mouth. The contractions of his attempts to swallow the spit pooling in cheeks cause the head of Yukhei’s cock to bump against the walls of his throat over and over, and fuck, it drives Ten wild. He digs a hand under Yukhei’s ass and pulls him closer pulls off slightly, and Yukhei gets the idea, lets go and fucks up into Ten’s mouth. 

It’s hard work at first, syncing his breathing with Yukhei’s stuttering thrusts, so that every time Yukhei’s cock leaves his throat he can get air to his desperately aching lungs. Yukhei is back to moaning, back to his hands in Ten’s hair, and he pulls at him, pushes against him, fucks into Ten’s throat with a rhythm that makes Ten realise he’s barely keeping himself together.

He can relate. His cock keeps dragging against the bedspread, and it’s driving him insane, every thrust of Yukhei in his mouth running through his veins like electricity, every involuntary snap of his own hips, every snatch of friction he steals. He wants to tell Yukhei it’s okay, but he’s kind of occupied. 

He loves this, loves having his mouth filled up, loves staring up at Yukhei, tears caught on his lashes, loves seeing the line of his body as his chest  _ heaves _ .

“Ten,” Yukhei says, and that’s enough, enough of a signal for Ten to pull off with a gasp, with an avalanche of saliva, replace his mouth with his hands and jerk Yukhei off. 

“Look at you,” Ten says, “so good. So good.” His lungs burn with lack of air and Yukhei quivers, shakes, makes garbled noises that fall into nothingness as he comes, spilling his load across Ten’s hand, his cock pulsing as Ten wrings every last drop out of him. “You’re so pretty, Yukhei,” Ten says, and Yukhei whines, hips bucking up one last time before he melts into the mattress.

Ten doesn’t wait for Yukhei to stir, just wraps a hand around himself, body jackknifing as he finally, finally gets some kind of friction, some kind of sensation that isn’t accidental. He gasps and Yukhei makes a noise, whiny. Ten looks up to see his hand opening and closing, laughs when he realises what Yukhei is asking for. He shuffles up the bed and Yukhei wraps a hand around him, and oh _ fuck _ Ten almost loses his mind. Yukhei is so pliant, so spent, but he looks at Ten like he’s a god of orgasms, like he’s the most wonderful thing to him. It makes heat coil through Ten’s body and he gasps, fucks into Yukhei’s hand, staring at the curve of his long fingers around him, imagines them inside of him, imagines what Yukhei’s cock would feel like inside him, imagines — 

His orgasm is unexpected, hits him like a sucker punch to the gut, and Ten moans, loses control, lets out a whine as he lets go over Yukhei, splattering his load across his knuckles, across the bedspread (whoops), across his skin. It aches in him, and Yukhei jerks him through it, staring up at him the whole time, eyes wide, smile lazy and satisfied. Ten collapses, panting, and they lie still, for a minute, for two, sweat cooling on their skin until Yukhei speaks, voice low and wrecked.

“So,” he says.

“Mmmmm,” Ten answers. Yukhei’s skin blazes against him, and honestly it’s nice, comforting. 

“You, uh. Want to do this again? I mean, it’s not exactly a journey to get to my house, is it?”

Ten laughs. “I suppose it isn’t.” He traces a lazy finger across Yukhei’s chest. “Maybe I’ll call you next time I’m lonely in the shower. Do you know what ‘let’s fuck’ in morse code is?”

He looks up, and Yukhei is flustered, like somehow shower sex is more embarassing than the fact that he’d just choked Ten with his cock.

“What?” Ten says, pushes at him, grinning wildly. “It’ll be fun.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
